Rebirth: I am the American leader

Hell's Kitchen hasn't been this busy in a long time.

Black Hummers rushed in one after another. These outsiders had a fearless arrogance.

They cruise around like sharks patrolling their territory. It seems that as soon as they find a target, they will swarm up and tear the target to pieces.

"You know, I have a bad feeling."

Old John held the gun, wrinkled his nose, and was as excited as a greyhound.

"Hahaha, it seems that your place is the same as the one in Brooklyn. The younger ones are the older ones, but that's okay."

Steve stood in the corridor, staring at the Hummers moving back and forth on the street.

The smile on his lips became happier.

"This saves trouble and saves me chasing and killing them one by one."

After saying this, Steve glanced at Kang, the little purple eggplant, and reached out to rub his potato head.

"You and this old guy run quickly, I will go to the school to find you. Old John! Give me your gun."

·······

Kingpin was about to explode. He was already fat.

I've been looking for Steve for the whole morning, but I can't even find a damn figure.

His chest heaved violently, as if it would explode from the middle the next moment.

"I hate this place. Manhattan is just full of little rats."

However, the next moment, his anger disappeared.

Steve, wearing a motorcycle jacket and looking like the second-in-command of the Hell's Angels, stood in the middle of the street holding a Winchester.

"I find this heroic fool a bit cute."

Kingpin stared at Steve through the windshield.

The sound of sudden brakes sounded in front of Steve, and at this time he had already raised his gun and was ready to shoot.

This guy had a fearless attitude from the beginning.

Even though the guy driving the car is a veteran mafioso, he is not a fool.

Jin Bing's face became a little ugly.

He had already fallen behind in the first confrontation.

But he didn't say much, but picked up his cane, pushed open the car door and got out.

"Steve Rogers? It seems your parents are ardent patriots.

Can you tell me what happened between you and my guys? "

"Your buddy?"

Steve stared at Kingpin in confusion, and after thinking for a while he suddenly realized something.

"You mean that lunatic with a target tattooed on his forehead? Damn it, I just bought a house yesterday. This guy rushed over and said I knew some pervert and insisted on entering my house.

I don't agree with him and he still litters and wants to kill me. "

Steve said this with indignation, not fear at all.

"Haha, according to what you mean, I should still apologize for his recklessness?"

Kingpin smiled, like a medieval nobleman at a good farce.

"Hey! Listen! I just came back from that damn battlefield! Why do you think I didn't kill him? Damn it, put away your nonchalant attitude.

I'm here to run a school. You damn guy only has green dollar bills in your head, and you don't care whether these damn boys are really living in hell. "

Steve said this indignantly, with rage bursting from his eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey! Mr. Steve, you misunderstood me. It's true that I am a successful businessman, but I am also a qualified philanthropist.

I had no idea you were here to save those children, trust me, you just have to maintain that identity.

Then you will gain the friendship of Wilson Grant Fix. "

"Haha, forget about friendship. As long as you don't let those crazy people break into my home again, as for your buddy.

Okay, I'm sorry.

But there's nothing I can do, you know. We guys who just came back from Afghanistan have some PTSD."

Steve put away the Winchester after he finished speaking.

"That guy does have some mental illness."

Kingpin waved the cane in his hand and got into the car without saying a word.

Only this time, instead of sitting in the back seat, he reached out and held the driver's chin.

The broad palm exerted only a slight force, and a tooth-aching sound of fractures was heard.

There was a cruel smile on his honest face.

"I have always felt that courage is the most precious quality of human beings. Principal Steve Rogers, you are a very courageous guy, if your educational plan fails.

You can come to me in New York and we'll welcome you. "

Jin Bin dragged the driver's body with one hand, as if he was carrying garbage out of a fat house.

It seems that killing someone will not cause any psychological burden to him at all.

"To be honest, you have to go to the police station to collect the reward for your bravery.

If I remember correctly, there should be a bounty on this guy's head, right? "

Kingpin smiled and stared at Steve for a long time before speaking.

"Then consider him as a meeting gift from me. I think your school should be short of money."

After saying this, he finally got into the car, the motor roared, and soon the team of Hummers left Hell's Kitchen.

Steve glanced at the mafia man lying on the ground in a three-piece suit and put his hand on his forehead.

·····

New York City Police Department.

George Stacey has been having a rough time lately.

In fact, as long as anyone becomes the police chief of New York, he will say goodbye to his comfortable life.

Damn Hell's Kitchen, damn black gangsters.

He wished he could apply to Congress for two nuclear bombs and completely wipe these two places off the map.

But the point is, this is fucking America.

A place that talks about human rights.

You can be unscrupulous behind the scenes, but you can't talk about it on the stage.

In fact, any such behavior is frowned upon.

Because in this damn country, you can be less politically correct, but you can't show it.

Just when he was thinking wildly, a trainee police officer opened the door and stood in his office.

"Hey! Damn it! Is my door a decoration? Why can't you knock on the door first and then come in!"

"Sorry, George. But you gotta hear this damn phone call for yourself. Someone killed a mafia guy in Hell's Kitchen."

"Which mafia? Is that the one I'm thinking of?"

"Yes, it's the one you think of."

George Stacey stood up suddenly, rushed to the trainee police officer and snatched his cell phone.

"Hi! This is the New York City Police Department."

"Well, I guess I know where I put the call. Are you the head of the NYPD? I shot a fugitive here.

I think I can claim a bounty? "

"what?"

Director George turned to look at the trainee police officer, who shrugged and said he didn't know anything.